The Righteous Man
by fantasyfun0311
Summary: Dean Winchester can't be the righteous man anymore. Not with the Mark of Cain burning a hole through everything that makes him good. (Two or Three Part Short) (AU) (Hot, fluffy, angsty, dirty, and dark.)
1. Chapter 1

I do not own Supernatural, but I wish I did!

Enjoy!

PART 1

Dean Winchester.

The _righteous_ man.

He wasn't very righteous anymore; he'd learned his lesson.

Years ago, we'd come across just another dive bar on a Friday. Just another Friday like tonight, in just another dive bar like this one. Right now he had his muscular shoulders tensed and his powerful forearms rested on the sticky bar top before him. It wasn't his perfect physique that had me leaning in closer, watching him intently. It was the way his mouth was pursed, the way he hung his head.

 _He's ashamed._

 _Of what?_

"Dean."

My voice, barely a whisper, echoed between us and the glint of his green eyes told me I had his attention.

"Dance with me," I murmured.

I expected him to say no. I expected him to quirk a small smirk, take a swallow of his Coors, and shake his head.

What I _didn't_ expect, was for him to look at me longer than a moment, and then take my hand into his before leading me towards an empty dark corner of the bar. I certainly didn't expect him to pop a quarter in the jukebox and pick a slow song that he knew was my favorite.

Dean didn't like slow songs, and I hadn't realized he paid enough attention to know which ones I _did_ like.

When Dean had me wrapped up in his arms, his hold on me tight enough to make me worry, he settled his chin on the top of my head.

Slowly, so as not to startle him, I laid my hands flat against his chest and sighed.

"What's the matter?," I whispered. Dean didn't give me any indication that he'd heard me.

"I don't know how Sammy and I woulda made it if you hadn't come along. I ain't just sayin' that either. All night it's been on my mind. You never shoulda survived what ya did, and I can't help but wonder what woulda happened if ya hadn't," Dean told me softly. I frowned.

"Dean, that was three years ago. It's okay to forget about it," I argued. Dean pulled back and nudged me under the chin.

"I can forget about a lotta things, sweetheart. Like the fact that your hair clogs the drain, of the fact that you leave the milk out for too long when you make a bowl of cereal. But I won't _ever_ forget the way you looked, sprawled out on the dark pavement, shakin' in a pool of your own blood," He told me. His green eyes had taken on a darker hue, and I wasn't sure if it was the lighting or my imagination.

I didn't want to break the moment, because Dean was one of my _best_ friends and he never had 'chick flick' moments. Yet I could tell that right now, he needed comfort from me.

"Dean...I'm _okay._ We're okay. What made you think about this?"

He shook his head and tucked me into his chest again before he answered.

"Heard another hunter died. I've watched a lot of people die, and I don't want you to be one of 'em."  
I swallowed audibly before responding, because honestly, what could I say? We both knew a promise of forever wasn't probable for us. I hadn't thought about starting anything romantic with anyone in years because the constant turmoil in our lives left too much to be desired.

I slid my arms around his neck and nuzzled my forehead against his stubble-covered chin.

"You and Sammy are my family. I ain't leavin' as long as you'll have me," I whispered. The bartender said something about 'last call,' and Dean swore under his breath.

"Shit, didn't realize it was so late. Ya okay to drive? Think I've had too much," He muttered as he untangled himself from me. I frowned at how quickly he was moving away from me, and was also concerned about the fact that he wanted _me_ to drive.

Dean rarely (never) let anyone else drive _baby._

I only nodded though, scared to mention either one of those things because Dean seemed... _fragile._

So I followed him outside, and hesitated when he just handed me the keys to his beloved Impala. Sure, over the years I'd been the designated driver, but tonight I hadn't seen Dean drink more than one beer.

As I slid behind the wheel Dean clambered into the passenger seat and rested his head against the headrest as his eyes closed.

In silence we drove home, neither one of us making eye contact. In my head my brain was going insane, but how could I reach out to him? We'd had only a few nights like this; nights when Dean was inconsolable.

As the bunker came into view, Dean looked over at me as I put the car into park.

"I need some time. You okay to head inside?"

I swallowed my questions, my curiosity, and instead nodded my head.

"Yeah."

He only winked at me before he exited the vehicle, leaving me behind speechless. Worried, I headed inside to find Sammy.

"Sam?"

I heard a rustle of fabric, a muttered curse, and saw a tiny sliver of light flicker from beneath Sammy's bedroom door. When his door opened, his eyes searched the dark hallway worriedly before they landed on me.

"What's wrong?"

I noticed he was shirtless, something any woman _would_ notice and shrugged.

"Dean. Something's wrong with him. I don't know what."

His brow furrowed and he inhaled sharply.

"He's been havin' trouble with the mark. He can't seem to turn it off."

This information had me literally cringing, and my brain suddenly tried to think of fifty different scenarios in which this ended okay- and none of the were even remotely plausible.

"What do I do?"

Sam frowned, wrapped an arm around me and tucked me into his warm chest.

"I don't know. I honestly don't," He whispered sadly. I wanted to scream, shout, _anything._

"He's not gonna be okay, is he?," I asked.

Sam huffed out a breath, pulled away so he could tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and quirked a smile.

"We're always okay. We'll figure it out."

I wanted to point out the fact that at this point I knew when he was lying, but I didn't have the courage to admit what we both knew.

 _This wasn't going to end well._

"Okay. Goodnight, Sam."

"Goodnight."

As I headed into my room, the heavy sound of Dean's pacing met my ears, and even though it literally _pained me_ to leave him alone...I didn't leave my room once.

"You locked your door last night," Dean murmured. My gaze flicked to his, and I adjusted the way I was sitting so I could see him better.

The library was quiet this morning, and it made me wonder if Sam was still asleep.

"You said you needed time," I replied.

 _He scares you._

 _Don't lie._

I turned the page in the book I was reading, wanting more than anything to meet his eyes but not wanting to scare him off.

I chanced a small peek at him and noticed he was wearing a wrinkled blue plaid shirt and that he had deep purple circles under his eyes. His sandy hair was in a subtle disarray, which made it look purposefully messy.

He sat down in the chair next to me, his knees brushing mine, and he placed a heavy hand on my bare thigh. I twitched, wondering when I would ever _get over_ that. Get over the past, and learn not to flinch when Sam or Dean touched me; they'd never raise a hand against me.

"I wasn't mad at ya last night, sweetheart."

His firm words reassured me, but I rolled my eyes and swallowed audibly.

"I just wanted to give you space," I explained. Slowly, he nodded, and I sighed with relief.

"Where did you end up spending your time?," I asked. He quirked a small smile, a gesture that was just so _Dean_ that it made my heart clench, and wiggled his eyebrows.

"Met with an old friend."

 _Oh._

 _He slept with someone._

I wasn't sure why that upset me; maybe because he pushed me away only to bring a stranger in closer, or maybe because I myself had no idea what to do to help Dean. Maybe my bone-crushing- loneliness that made my heart weep was why I was so upset.

Either way, I pushed Dean away, and pretended like I was stretching.

"Well, I've got some shit to do today. Catch ya later, okay?," I asked brightly. While the only reaction I got was the raising of Dean's eyebrows, I still nodded my head a couple of times and left the room, taking my hurt feelings with me.

Dean Winchester was a hard man, a _complicated_ man, and I well knew it.

He'd first shown me that the week I moved in.

 _Night terrors. Dean Winchester has night terrors._

 _I tried not to notice, but every night at the same time his screams tear through the darkness like a plague._

 _Every night he roams the halls like a lost man, like a_ _ **blind**_ _man._

 _And every night I watch with sorrow tainting my mind as he tried and fails to find himself._

 _Even though I watch him, he has no idea that I pay close attention; I know him like the back of my hand._

 _I know that when he's really hurt, as he often is when he scours the hallways, his spine is so tense I could bounce a quarter off of it._

 _I know that when his shoulders pitch forward slightly, he's ready to lose it._

 _When his hair stands on end, I know the exact way his fingers weave through the sandy strands._

 _I_ _ **know.**_

" _What are ya doin'?"_

 _I flinched, tore myself away from Dean's gentle grasp, and effectively placed three feet between us. His green eyes watched me knowingly, and his full lips twitched with the words he refused to say._

" _ **I'm sorry."**_

" _ **I wish I could help you."**_

" _ **Why are we so broken?"**_

 _The words lingered in the air between us as the pain that we both harbored thickened the midnight air. Dean didn't reach for me again, and I didn't ask him why his eyes were red as if he'd been crying; which I knew he had been._

 _Instead, I closed the distance between us, pressed my hand against his heart, and nodded my head slowly._

 _It took him but a moment to realize that I was telling him that I understood; his heart was broken, but mine was too._

 _And that's okay._

 _We would be okay._

"What's got your head in the clouds, kid?," Sam asked me. I jumped, almost slicing off a digit with the knife I was holding, and swore.

"Moosey the jolly brown giant, don't scare me like that! I got enough scars lining this meat suit," I muttered as I sucked my thumb into my mouth. He snorted and pulled my finger from my mouth before inspecting it in the bright sunlight.

"You'll be fine. You sleep okay? I haven't seen ya all day," Sam asked me. I shrugged.

"I'm fine."

His hazel eyes assessed me carefully, from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.

"You're lying."

I opened my mouth to argue, but Dean came bustling into the room, and I froze. How could I even articulate the way that I was feeling? Suddenly _jealous_ of the fact that Dean Winchester had his eye on every female in the world (and maybe even other planets) besides me? That I was starting to become frightened to be left alone with the man I was possibly in love with, all because of a mark on his arm?

That maybe, _maybe_ , Dean wasn't _Dean_ anymore?

Sam's eyes narrowed and he looked from Dean to myself and then back at Dean again.

"What? What'd I do?"

Dean's wide green eyes fell on me and something flickered in his eyes; something I recognized. _Shame._

What did that mean?  
"I'm outta here," I muttered, scurrying towards the garage and effectively closing myself away from the men that made me nervous and the feelings that made me sad. I heard both Winchester's call my name but I ignored them both and climbed behind the wheel of my car.

Time wasn't ever on my side, and apparently, neither was my heart.

I was sincerely hoping that since the hour was nearing midnight, no one would be awake. However, since I could see the light on in the library, I knew that wasn't happening. Hesitantly, I made my way through the bunker. It was pitch black down the hallway that led to my bedroom, but I could hear pacing. By the tread of the boot, it was Dean, and I wasn't surprised in the least. I set my jacket down onto my bed and tip-toed towards the library where the sound of his heavy-soled boots were working the carpet into a frenzy. He had his hands hanging at his sides, periodically clenching into fists. His hair stood on end, and so I stopped to lean against the doorjamb to watch him for a moment.

 _He's beautiful._

"Dean," I murmured.

His gaze shot to mine over his shoulder and the wide-eyed-panicked look he had on his face made me pause. He didn't say a word as he watched me with those frightened eyes, and I didn't have the heart to turn away from him.

Not when he had that look on his face.

"I don't feel right," He whispered. I frowned.

"What do ya mean?," I asked, taking a step towards him. He canted his head to the side, and I stopped in my tracks. The expression on his face, the predatory gleam in his eyes, it hadn't faded.

"I want to kill."

I swallowed, took a step back. He took a step forward.

"I don't know...what to say," I finally whispered. Dean's chin fell towards his chest and he heaved, a solid breath that was more like a whine, and I suddenly realized that it didn't matter if I was scared.

It didn't matter if I was terrified that he would hurt me, because he _needed_ me.

So I crossed the room to where he was standing and threw my arms around his neck. He was ready, he caught me fast and wrapped his arms around my middle like he was afraid that if he let me go he'd disappear.

"I'm sorry. I keep thinkin' about you and how this ain't fair to you. I shoulda told you sooner, given ya the chance to split-,"

"Stop it. I ain't going anwyhere, Dean."

"But the picture of you, spread out on that sidewalk, bleedin' out, it's on constant replay in my head. I don't wanna hurt you," He whispered brokenly into my ear. I swallowed my own tears and pulled away so I could see his face. I smiled, barely, but I made it.

"Listen to me. You won't hurt me, Dean. I know you wouldn't," I said firmly.

His green eyes never left my face.

"Neither one of us are sure of that," He finally admitted.

I wanted to tell him he was wrong, but he wasn't and I could never hide anything from Dean Winchester.

"I'm willing to risk it. Do you know why?," I whispered.

His hold on me tightened for only a moment before he eased his hold into a more gentle grasp.

"Why?," He asked.

"I love you. And I know you love me. We're family. We would _die_ for each other."

His eyes fell to the floor between us and finally, _finally_ he graced me with a smile.

"We're gonna be okay?"

I nodded.

"We're gonna be okay."


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

Dean was dead.

Dead.

Dea.

De.

Dean was gone.

I was inconsolable, and Sam?

Sam was trying, mercilessly, _endlessly,_ to find him, but why? He wasn't just dead and gone, he was a fuckin' demon and that meant that he was no longer ours. In fact, the last time I'd seen him, he was shaking in my arms, weeping blood. Yet even torn apart, he'd made me promise to take care of Sam and move on.

" _Say it. Tell me that you'll move on," Dean demanded shakily. I felt my lower lip quiver, and shook my head vehemently._

" _No. I won't let you die. You ain't dyin' on me today, Winchester!"_

 _He tried to smile, but he grimaced instead, and I shifted my weight slightly so he was cradled against me._

" _I know ya don't like apple pie-,"_

" _Stop right there,-"_

" _But I need to hear ya say that you'll take a chance at the apple pie life," Dean whispered. I shook my head but his hazy green eyes stopped me._

" _If I tell you that, I'll be lying," I whimpered, pressing my forehead to his._

" _Sweetheart, I lied to the both of us every time I took another woman home," He finally said._

 _I felt my heart crack._

" _No."_

" _Tell me, baby. Please."_

" _I promise!," I cried, my sobs finally taking over as Dean slumped against me. I screamed, more like_ _ **howled**_ _, and cupped his cheeks in my hands. Pressing my mouth to his, I murmured his name over and over again. I shook him hard, but he didn't respond. I pressed my palms against his bloody chest and tried to pump some life back into him, but Sam stopped me._

" _He's gone."_

" _NO! He's not, Sammy come on help me lay him down-,"_

" _He's_ _ **gone."**_

And he'd been gone for two months now, and yet, my brain still denied itself the relief and pain of the truth.

"Ya gotta eat something," Sam said kindly as he entered the living room. Slowly, I shook my head.

His sigh could have felled mountains, but instead of arguing like I'm _sure_ he wanted to do, he leaned down to wrap his arms around my neck.

"Can I do something for you?," I whispered. I felt him shake his head against my neck.

"You want me to make you some dinner?," I asked absently.

"It's eleven in the morning," Sam said softly. I frowned.

"I didn't sleep."

"You never do," He pointed out.

I didn't say anything more, and Sam took the time to gently rub my shoulders.

"What are you doing today?," I whispered.

As I spoke, Sam stood, and came around to the front of my chair to face me. I heard his joints crack as he settled into a kneeling position.

"Ya gotta get out of this bunker. You're wasting away."

"I am not-,"

"You _are._ You're skin and bones! Come out with me today. We'll go grab some drinks, have some dinner. I'll even let you drive," Sam said with a devilish grin.

I snorted, rolling my eyes as a smile came to life on my lips.

"Okay, Sammy bo bammy. We'll do this your way for tonight. But don't go thinkin' I'm easy just 'cause you swayed me this one time," I said with sly wink. Sam held out a hand to me, pulling me up from my lump in my favorite chair. His broad chest met my face as he pulled me into a hug that I hadn't felt in weeks.

Meekly, I wrapped my arms around his waist and sighed.

"I don't know if I can do this alone."

Sam's voice had gone soft, sad; I hated when I made him sad.

"I won't leave you," I promised. His hands met my shoulders as he kneaded them.

"I didn't think you'd _leave_ me. But you've been inside your head since Dean...left. I need you here with me."

I swallowed the tears that threatened to spill at his words and sighed.

"You're right. Shit Sammy, you're so right. I'm sorry, I didn't mean-,"

His finger against my mouth stopped me.

"Stop. I get it. Dean was yours."

I shook my head, ready to argue, but Sam smiled.

"Even if you aren't ready to admit it, it's the truth. For years I watched Dean struggle with what he _wanted_ and what he thought he _needed._ Unfortunately, he often got the two mixed up. But that isn't your fault, he loved you the best way he knew how," Sam said softly. I shook my head but he just gave me one of his smiles and nodded his head in opposition.

"We'll get him back, don't you worry."

 _Yet, I would worry._

 _I would always worry._

Sam's idea of a night out, was exactly what I'd never realized I'd needed.

"If you make this shot, we'll win. Remember what I told ya, lean into the throw," Sam whispered into my ear. I nodded solemnly, wishing that Dean was here for the millionth time because he always knew how to calm my nerves.

 _Also, he looked damn fine in a pair of jeans._

Okay brain, focus.

I held my breath, leaned into the throw, and exhaled as the dart left my fingertips. With bated breaths Sammy and I waited for the dart to land, and it did- directly in the center of the board. We looked at each other shocked as we heard our opponents groan before he burst into laughter and I drunkenly squealed. Sammy hefted me into his arms and spun me, gladly taking the folded bills from the bros in snapbacks that were glaring daggers at us.

"That was awesome!," Sam said, dropping me onto my feet. I curtsied and giggled, tossing my hair back over my shoulder.

"Thank you, thank you. I'll allow you to spend some of that money on buying me another round while I visit the ladies room."

He winked at me and I turned, heading down the busy hallway that led to the back of the bar and the restroom.

I hadn't told Sammy why I'd chosen this bar- because the last time I was here, Dean held me in his arms and danced with me to my favorite song. The last normal night we'd had together, had been right here in this shit hole of a bar, with deep red carpeting and a rusty old jukebox that far outshined its listeners.

As I squeezed into the bathroom, I headed into the first open stall and closed the door behind me. I heard murmurs and drunken laughter as I quickly utilized the toilet and exited the stall to wash my hands. It was after I'd washed my hands however, that I realized I wasn't alone.

Had I been sober, I would have seen him immediately. I would have caught the slight scent of sulfur in the air.

I would have realized that the heavy feeling that hung in the air wasn't the soul-crushing pain I was feeling, but instead the electric charge of a demon making it's presence known.

I was in the process of fluffing my hair, twisting the curly strands around my fingers and trying to revitalize the bounce when I heard his voice.

"Havin' a good time, sweetheart?"

My pulse came to life instantly, and my heart slammed against my chest with enough force to knock the wind out of me. Green eyes met mine in the dingy mirror and I froze.

 _Dean._

 _Dean._

 _ **Demon.**_

I told myself to scream for Sam, but the music that was playing was far too loud, and the determined way Dean was walking towards me was both sexy and terrifying all at once.

"Dean."  
His smile was devious, purely carnal, _treacherous_ \- never had he looked at me like this before.

"You look...ravishing," He murmured as he slammed me into the counter behind me. I hissed, reaching for the dagger at my hip, but he yanked it from it's holster and tossed it behind him. I watched with wide eyes as he slowly turned the lock on the bathroom door.

His gaze never left mine.

"Wha-why are you _here_?," I breathed.

He tucked a finger in my hair and slid a curl back behind my ear, all the while his green eyes practically burned me with their heat.

"Been waitin' for ya to leave the house, sweetheart. Haven't seen ya in quite a while," He murmured, and as if my worst fears were becoming a reality, his green eyes faded to black. I sucked in a breath at the sight, yet even though this _creature_ couldn't possibly be the man I was in love with, the sight of anyone that resembled Dean in any way would have thrown my entire being off kilter.

I was officially thrown off kilter.

"This can't be happening," I whispered to myself.

Dean chuckled, and the sight of the smile I'd been daydreaming about, mourning for, had my insides curdling.

"Oh it can, and it _is,_ baby."

His calloused hands fell onto my waist and he pulled my hips against his in a way that made me gasp.

His erection was hard, thick against my thigh and I was no longer ignorant to his intentions.

"Don't fuckin' do this, please," I asked meekly.

Even though my brain knew that it was wrong, my body was still feigning ignorance because I was about two seconds away from begging this demon to fuck me right there against the counter.

He didn't answer as his hands slowly slid beneath my black halter top and met my bare skin. I whimpered, partially out of fear and partially out of self-hatred.

 _This isn't Dean._

 _It's something else entirely, and you should kill him!_

My brain screamed obscenities at me, but my heart?

My heart felt whole again for the first time in months and all I wanted was to hold onto that feeling. So I reached forward and cupped Dean's cheeks with my palms. I knew the second I touched him that he would take that as his own version of my permission to do with me as he pleased; instead, he grabbed a hold of my wrists and held them away from his face.

His grip on me was bruising, too tight, but I reveled in the fact that I could feel anything at all.

"You smell like you want me," Dean whispered.

I startled, tried to yank out of his grasp, but he held me fast.

"Now now, sugar. Don't be like that. I know ya want me. Fuck, I want ya so bad I've laid low just so I could catch a glimpse of ya," He admitted. I scoffed.

"Cut the shit. You ain't Dean, and if you're gonna kill me then just _do it._ I really don't need the theatrics!," I demanded angrily.

His black eyes flicked back to green like the closing of a curtain and he used his tight hold on my wrists to pull me even further into the circle of his arms.

"If I wanted to kill ya, I'd have done it already, sweetheart."

His gruff voice was pushing all the right buttons, melting me right down into my cowboy boots, but I tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.

"You aren't the man I want touchin' me," I whispered fervently.

His smirk was infuriating as he dipped his mouth towards mine, hovering barely an inch over my parted lips as he whispered, "Ain't I?"

I could barely breathe, but if this was the only time I'd ever get to see the body of the man I would always call mine, I'd take it.

Closing the distance between us nary a second later, I pulled myself out of his grip and cupped his cheeks once more, pressing my mouth solidly over his. His guttural growl filled me with nothing but excitement as he did indeed pick me up and set me on top of the counter. He stood between my legs, my jean skirt riding high on my hips. His hands were everywhere all at once and all I could think about was how Sam had told me that Dean was mine.

 _Mine._

Dean's fingers met in a knot at the base of my skull and he snapped my head back with a force that startled a cry from my throat.

"I wanna taste your sweet pussy."

And then he was kneeling between my legs, his coarse plaid shirt scrunched between my fingers. I shook my head, my eyes wide, and his large hands on my thighs stopped my protests.

"You want me. I _know_ you do."

"I want _Dean_ ," I said indignantly.

His smooth chuckle was like fine whiskey, sinking into my bloodstream and making me weak-kneed. His skilled hands slid to the insides of my thighs and my pulse was now thrumming hard to the beat of the music as his sandy blonde hair drifted through my fingers. I felt the heat of his breath against the mouth of my pussy as he buried his nose between my thighs and inhaled deeply.

"Damn, baby. You smell sweeter than I'd imagined," He rasped out, rewarding me with a short lick at the seam of my panties. I jolted, groaning at the intense pleasure his touch brought me. I opened my mouth to tell Dean to take it easy, to tell him _no,_ but the words that left my mouth were nothing of the sort.

"Eat me, Dean," I pleaded.

I expected a laugh, a smirk, but instead he feasted those black eyes on me and tore right through my panties.

"Fuck, you're so wet," He said happily, humming to himself as he leaned in and sucked my clit into his mouth. My hands met the wall beside me and the mirror behind me as he cupped my ass and dragged me closer to his hot mouth. I let out a mewl, a keening sound. My coherent thoughts went away as Dean, _Dean,_ made love to me with his mouth, something I'd never imagined in a million years I would get the chance to experience.

Yet here he was, licking me like he licked his pie, like I was his favorite flavor, and for the life of me I couldn't remember why this was wrong.

I closed my eyes and let my head fall back to rest against the mirror as Dean spread my thighs wider, and slid two fingers deep inside of me. The sound that tore from my chest was both pathetic and erotic, his name leaving my lips as nothing but a breathless plea.

"Don't stop," I begged.

He hummed against my clit and it drove me closer to the orgasm that was blistering my insides just below my skin, and my back arched backwards. My hands fell to the top of his head, clenching his hair between my fingers, moaning his name.

"Yes, yes, yes," I whispered, leaning into his mouth as he swiped his tongue along my seam, his fingers working over time inside of me.

"Come for me, baby," Dean demanded. His gravelly voice sounded every bit as demonic as his black eyes looked when he glanced up at me. His perfect lips never left my pussy and just as I thought my entire body would ignite into flames, my mouth fell open and nothing but a whimper rushed out as the most intense orgasm of my life came to life beneath my heated skin.

He fucked me with his fingers until the trembling stopped, until my eyes finally opened and I looked down at him. He sat back on his haunches and when those black eyes lifted towards me, reality hit me.

 _I just let a demon eat my pussy._

 _Does that mean I'll get special treatment in hell?_

And then all I could imagine was myself hanging from the racks as Dean tortured me into oblivion. I hurriedly jumped from the counter, tugging my clothes back into place.

Dean's disturbing laughter filled the room, and I tried my best to ignore him.

"What's the matter, kitten? Feelin' guilty?," He prodded, his finger nudging my chin up.

I smacked his hand away, and he wrapped his long fingers, the fingers that had in fact brought me to an orgasm, around my wrist and twisted it painfully. I cried out, but Dean's other hand around my throat stopped any protests.

"Don't be so rude. I know you know better," He said threateningly. I scoffed.

"You don't know _anything_ about me!," I said with a smile.

Suddenly I was thrown into the wall behind me, but I brought my knee up between us before he could slam me into the hardwood again.

"You had your fun, Dean. Sam'll be burstin' through that door any minute. Go on," I said softly.

His black eyes watched me as he canted his head to the side slowly.

"You want him."

He whispered this to me, like it was _wrong,_ like it was a secret.

"Wrong."

His growl filled the emptiness in the bathroom and he shoved my knee down hard before he had his body flat against mine.

 _Again._

I tried to huff out a breath, but his mouth connected with the shell of my right ear.

"I'll kill you before I let you fuck him," He hissed menacingly.

I felt my mouth drop open as laughter bubbled up into my belly and slipped past my lips. Before I could stop myself, I was laughing so hard it brought tears to my eyes.

I was still off kilter.

"What's so fuckin' funny?"  
"If you think I could ever let another man besides _Dean Winchester_ touch my naked body, if you think I would let anyone besides him make me come in a public restroom, then you're even more deluded than I thought. Fucked up thing is, you ain't him either, huh?," I asked as I pulled away from him and slid my knife back into the holster at my hip.

I didn't hear him come up behind me, but I felt his breath at the back of my neck.

"Dean's in here somewhere."

I looked at him over my shoulder, took in every detail of his perfect face; the one that haunted my dreams at night. I turned to face him directly, running a hand down his cheek as the knot in my throat threatened to suffocate me.

"Yeah, I know you're as close as I'll ever get. Half of me is okay with that, but the other half?"

My voice cracked and I sucked in a breath and shook my head, appreciative of the fact that those black eyes were my favorite shade of green at the moment.

"Well, the other half of me _loves_ you. I love you because you look like my best friend, the man I would still willingly die for. I love you because I love Dean, and even though you _can't be_ him...well, I would rather know that at least a part of him, no matter how small it may be, is still out there," I finally said.

There was no fighting the tears that threatened to engulf me now, and they leaked from my eyes like the broken faucet in the kitchen back at the bunker.

The face that would have usually been so expressive was impassive, blank, and although the green eyes I loved were watching me so closely I could practically feel them skating across my skin, I sniffed and turned towards the door.

My hand wrapped around the handle, and I hesitated.

"Sam is determined to find you. It would probably be in your best interest to leave here tonight and never come back."

"I thought you _loved_ me?," The demon mocked.

I chuckled, swallowing the pain that he caused.

"I love Dean. He's gone."

The bathroom door opened easily as I headed towards the front of the bar. With every step taken, the pain in my chest grew bigger, until it felt like my heart was nothing but liquid filling up all the empty spaces inside of me.

"Hey, you okay?"

I smiled up at Sam, caught a glimpse of Dean as he moved towards the rear exit of the building, and nodded.

"Yeah. Where's my tequila?"


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

Dean's Perspective

She was the single most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

I wanted to wilt her.

Like a dying flower, I wanted to drain her dry and watched as she withered.

I couldn't help myself, either.

Deep down, there was a protective urge that constantly warred with the evil deeds I wanted to do to her, but I suspected that was the _real_ Dean making his presence known. Even in death, he was still The Righteous Man.

Even in death, he was beyond infuriating.

"Are you even listenin' to me?" Crowley demanded.

I glanced at him, and the unease that filled his eyes brought me a glee that only true fear could.

"No. I have some place to be tonight."

His dark eyes narrowed, and he tsked behind his teeth.

"I'd leave that strumpet be, mate."  
His careless dismissal of her made my blood boil, but I simply shrugged it off. Who was I to judge? More than half of my instincts told me to kill her while the smaller portion told me to fuck her, keep her, _brand her._

"Alright, don't take my advice. When you're done with her, come find me. I've got a small mission for you."

My nod was the only response he got before I headed off in the general direction of the bunker.

I'd been watching and waiting; since our last meeting in that bar, _Davey's,_ my little kitten had been locked up tight. However, my persistence has prevailed, because I happened to know that Sam hadn't locked the door in his drunkenness tonight.

Now was my moment.

 _Her moment._

It was quiet, effortless, and as I watched Sammy from the hallway, the anger that was ever present in my heart came to life all over again.

She was trying to help him into bed; I could hear her mumbling sweet things into his ear. She was always so _sweet,_ so innocent.

I watched as she gently laid a hand against his cheek, a steady look of concern on her perfect face. Her brow was furrowed, her small lips pursed. I could hear Sam mumbling, saying something only she could hear.

Once she had him tucked into bed, he wrapped a hand around her arm to keep her from leaving. When she turned to face him, when she turned that concerned face towards Sam, he pressed his mouth to hers.

 _Fury._

I wanted to _gut_ him.

I toyed with the idea as I watched her so intently I was sure she'd notice me lurking in the hallway.

Her hands were splayed wide on either side of his body as he moved her in closer, his muscular arms wrapping around her. She wasn't wearing much, a flimsy sun dress that barely covered her tanned thighs. Slowly, she relaxed, and the anger in me rose ten-fold. Boiling, my blood must have been boiling, because she buried her hands in his hair and let him run his fingers along the backs of those perfect legs. I watched her perfect pink tongue touch his, and I knew right then and there that she was _mine._

 _Mine, mine, mine._

And as quickly as it started, it was over, and she was pushing herself out of the circle of Sam's arms. She touched her rosy mouth gingerly as she shook her head back and forth. I saw a tear catch against those long lashes guarding her sad blue eyes, and Sam ducked his head in what looked like shame.

I watched him mouth the name _Jessica_.

She held her hands out and caressed his cheek.

She whispered something that made him smile.

Sam only brought her palm to his mouth and laid back in his bed.

She hesitated before tucking the blankets around him and swiping a stray lock of hair off of his forehead. When it was obvious he was asleep, she closed his bedroom door behind herself quietly as she exited.

I moved in closer, watching as she collapsed against the closed door and dropped her watery blue eyes towards the floor. It was dark apart from some soft lamplight coming from the library, but I could see her wiping tears from her face.

I watched her spine stiffen, watched as she headed towards the library then, her bare feet barely making a sound on the cold floor.

Her dress brushed against those sweet legs as she sat down in a wooden chair, propping those pink toes on a chair in front of her. A pencil landed between her teeth and she pushed her hair back over her shoulder. I could see what she was reading from here- more books on _how to cure a demon._

She was still hopeful that Dean would come home.

His appreciation flooded my system.

"How does he taste?," I found myself asking.

She shot out of her chair so fast she almost blurred, sending her curly hair in every direction. She took a step back into the darkness, and I took a step forward.

"How did you get in here?," She rasped.

I could hear her pulse from here, hear how much the sight of me excited her.

"This is home, baby. I know every nook and cranny."  
She snorted and rolled her eyes.

"You should get the hell out of here. I thought I told you not to come back!," She snapped furiously. I tucked my hands into my pockets and stepped into the library fully, appreciating the way her lithe body looked in the light.

"Now now, is that any way to treat the love of your life?"

Her mouth shut tight, stretched into a thin line.

"He's dead. You're nothin' but a shadow man. I don't know why you're here, but it ain't for me," She told me.

She turned away from me, gathered her things into her arms and headed down the hallway that led to her bedroom. Except instead of going into the room I was seeing images of in my head, she stepped into one across the hall.

 _Dean's room._

My room, rather.

She was throwing things into her arms at such a fast rate it was hard to make out what exactly she was holding.

"You sleepin' in here?"

She glanced at me before she dropped whatever she was holding onto the bed and planted her hands on her hips.

"Yeah, I am."

"Why would you be doin' that? Seems like ya got Sam wrapped around your finger," I said softly. She narrowed her eyes at me.

"You got somethin' against Sammy touchin' me? Hm? Ain't like you've been chaste since you've been dead," She spat.

Before I could stop myself, I had her pinned against my bedroom wall. Her thighs were parted just enough for me to slide between them, and when I did a strange sense of relief washed over me.

"I told ya I'd kill ya if I caught you touchin' him."

"Then kill me, Dean. _Please."_

That threw me off guard; had anyone else begged me to kill them, I would. No doubt about it.

But hearing her voice form those words, watching her lips say them, it was different. It was _wrong._

She wasn't supposed to say that, she was supposed to deny having any feelings for Sam. She was supposed to tell me it was only me in her head, in her bed, in her _heart._

"Do you love him?"

"Do you love me?"

I didn't say anything, I couldn't. I didn't feel anything of the sort, and she knew that. Even if real Dean loved her, I couldn't ever.

"We both know that I can't."

"Lies. Meg had some sense of right and wrong, she wasn't a complete zombie. You got feelings in that meat suit of yours, _Dean,_ and no matter what you did with that fuckin' Mark of Cain on your skin, you and I both know that," She huffed.

I tightened my hold on her, zeroed in on her pulse point.

It would be so easy to snuff her out, to strangle her right and here and now, but for some reason that wasn't _possible._

I couldn't hurt her even if I tried to.

My mouth descended onto hers, and the moan that left her mouth was one of pure unadulterated pleasure. She pushed her body into mine, pressing her sweet pussy against the fly of my jeans.

"Dean, Dean," She whispered against my mouth. I grunted, pushing her dress up around her hips roughly.

"Ya ain't wearin' panties."

She didn't respond until I pulled her mouth away from mine.

"You let my brother touch ya without any panties on?," I asked her darkly. She squared her jaw.

"What are you gonna do about it?"

She was baiting me- and it was working.

Little temptress.

My hands were underneath her dress in a heartbeat, grasping her perky tits in my palms. She hissed, arched against me, and dragged her nails down the sides of my neck. Her nipples were nothing more than tight buds between my fingers as I plucked and squeezed and pleased her until she was a writhing mess in my arms. Our tongues battled for dominance in a war I never wanted to quit fighting, because fuck, but I felt semi-human when she touched me. When I heard her whisper my name in that needy way she does, it made me feel less like a demon and more like the man I was before I died and went to hell.

Her skin was soft and supple under my rough palms, she was warm and pliant. She was writhing, tugging at my burgundy shirt, and I was helping her remove it. When her small hands made contact with my bare skin, it was like an inferno beneath my skin was ignited. And then I couldn't get enough of her. She was gasping into my mouth as my fingers touched her wet pussy, searching for and seeking that tiny bud that would make her _scream_. Her little fingers slid down inside the front of my jeans and wrapped themselves around my hard cock. She held me in a tentative vice grip as she tried to contain her cries. Up and down my shaft she stroked, driving me mad, driving me wild.

When that wasn't enough for either of us, I dropped her down onto her feet and with one hand I pushed everything she'd been holding earlier from the top of the bed onto the floor. She gasped into my mouth as I kissed her long and hard, dropping her down onto the bed naked and dragging her bare ass to the very edge. She was in the perfect position to fuck right into the mattress from this angle, so I spread her thighs wide and looked my fill as I removed my own pants.

"Dean?"

I knew my eyes weren't anywhere near their 'normal' color...how could they be? This sweet little vixen drove me to the extremes with how much I wanted her, and no matter how long I stayed away from her, the parts of me that were still _Dean WInchester_ absolutely craved her.

"I ain't gonna hurt ya, baby."

She relaxed beneath me as I leaned forward to suck a pink nipple into my mouth. She tasted like sweet sweat and strawberries, all rolled into one gorgeous package. My mouth traveled from her tits to her neck, where I nibbled her tender skin until she was tugging on my hair.

"Please," She whispered against my mouth.

And in reality, that was all she'd ever really have to say.

I wanted her whether I was dead or alive, a demon or a man. She was my kryptonite.

She was my weakness.

"Please, please," She whispered, her big eyes watching me.

Gently, as gentle as someone like me could be, I slid into her tight pussy. Her breath hitched, she closed those glowing eyes, and her hands wrapped around her own breasts.

 _She was the closest thing to heaven I would ever want to experience._

She was wet, tight, so fuckin' tight.

"Harder," She demanded softly, wrapping those legs around my waist.

That was all it took.

I settled my hands on her hips, grunting when her sharp claws slid down my chest. In and out, faster, _faster,_ and fuck did it feel good to finally fuck her.

 _Take her, taste her._

 _Keep her._

 _Mine, mine, mine-_

She gasped, her mouth falling open to form an 'o' as her pussy clenched down hard on my cock. Her body trembled, _hard_ , as she came apart in my arms. And I couldn't help but lift her into my arms and slam her into the wall behind her as I tightened my hold on her hips and fucked her from a new angle. She was gasping now, sucking my tongue into her mouth, telling me things she shouldn't be.

Worshipping her body was the easiest thing I'd ever done, and after tonight, there'd be no way I could stay away from her. Whether it was two months or two weeks, I _needed_ her in a way I didn't need anything or anyone else.

"I love you, I love you," She was frantically whispering as I slammed into her so hard I couldn't imagine that it didn't hurt her. Her body just curved into mine, a perfect home for a wanderer like me.

Just like her, my body froze, and the orgasm that crashed through me was the most intense I'd ever felt. I slammed my forearms on either side of her head and buried my face in her neck as I struggled to catch my breath.

She didn't move much after that.

"I'd like to get down."

Her voice didn't hold the dreamy tone it had when I was buried deep inside of her, so I stepped away from her. She moved around me, careful not to touch me, careful not to look at me. I dressed slowly, watching her out of the corner of my eye.

"What? Cat got your tongue?"

She slid on that sexy sundress and continued to ignore me as she picked up all of the things I'd tossed to the ground in my haste to fuck her earlier. I noticed that her hands shook slightly as she began to reorganize everything, setting it into it's rightful place.

"I think you should go."

I didn't like to hear that, not after the way I'd touched her body.

Not after all the times she'd told me she loved me.

"No."

She slammed her hands on the top of the desk in front of her, and her long hair fell to curtain her face.

" _Dean."_

The desperate way she'd said my name made my insides clench in a way that was currently unfamiliar to me.

"I ain't leavin' just yet."

"Don't you get it yet?"

I frowned until she rounded on me, slapping me so hard it made me growl under my breath.

"You come around here, touchin' me, _using_ me, and I let you! I let you touch me, and love me, and _hurt_ me because when you ain't here, I _crave you._ That body you're wearin', well it's the only piece of Dean Winchester I got left. Maybe you're made of him, and maybe you ain't, but my heart doesn't know the difference either way," She whispered as she cradled her forehead in her hands.

"I can't leave you alone."

Her gaze shot to mine, and I knew that my eyes were a vibrant green.

"See? See what I mean? I know you don't really feel that way for me. I know that, and hearin' you say that makes me want things I _cannot_ have!"

She covered her face with her hands and cried into them, her shoulders shaking.

"I won't hurt you," I promised.

 _Why did I promise that?_

"You already are. And I'm half tempted to let you keep doin' it too, if it means that I'll get to feel okay for at least a little while. But that ain't gonna help me get over Dean Winchester. That ain't gonna help me _move on._ "

A memory that I didn't make any time recently came to life in my head, where a bloody version of myself was begging her to move on, to live an 'apple pie life.'

"You gonna leave Sam?," I heard myself ask.

She smiled, a genuine smile.

"No."

I swore, the darkness creeping in, and the jealousy I felt was overwhelming.

"So you won't leave him, but you'll leave me? The man you claim to _love?",_ I hissed at her.

Her gaze met mine and she was still smiling. Her shrug infuriated me. She sniffed, wiped her face, and wrapped her hands around the back of my neck. She leaned up on those pink toes and caressed my mouth with hers.

"I'd do it all over again. Given the chance, I would _still_ choose you. I'd love you, I'd lose you all over again, Dean. I would trade my own soul if Crowley could give you back yours, but we both know that will never happen. When I tell you that I want you to leave me alone, it ain't because I'll ever _stop_ lovin' you. It's because if you don't go, if you don't leave me alone, I'm going to die."

Her voice wavered, and I yanked myself out of her grip.

"You'd off yourself? Just to forget about me?"

Her sad eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and as her face crumpled, I felt like I needed to hold her. To kiss her, maybe to fuck her pain away.

"I never understood how women could let themselves go when their men left them before. But losing you, holding you while you died? Seeing you like this?," She said gesturing towards me.

"I think my broken heart will literally _kill_ me. I can't focus on anything, I'm reckless on hunts, and I can't leave Sam unprotected anymore. I forget to eat, I can't sleep. I'm going to ask Castiel to erase you."

I couldn't contain the guttural noise that escaped my mouth as I watched her cave in on herself.

"No!"

"Yes, _yes_ , Dean. I can't live like this anymore, and if you wanna stay the way you are, then I'd get gone. Sam will be up soon, and he hasn't given up on you yet."

"Not like you, you mean?," I rasped at her.

She winced, turned away from me, braced herself against my desk.

"When you come back, when Sam fixes you, just remember something."

I waited for her to answer, and when she didn't I prompted her.

"What?"

She flinched at the sound of my voice.

"Remember, that I love you."

I scoffed, shook my head, but her pleading blue eyes stopped me.

" _Please."_

And in reality, that was all she really had to say.


	4. Chapter 4

**Enjoy the last installment! I hope you liked this story, and thank you for reading :)**

 **Part 4**

Sammy told me not to worry; he told me that he had everything planned out down to the finest detail, and that Dean would be okay. I could hear him screaming, hurling sults that made even _my_ skin sting, but Sam kept at it.

Of course, Dean had already escaped and after he _barely_ missed his opportunity to have me up against the kitchen counter, Sam made sure that Castiel was there to help him.

 _Feed him blessed blood, and he'll be right as rain._

Sure, Sammy, and when had we ever encountered a rain storm that felt _just right?_

I was pacing furiously, my hair was standing on end; how in the world was I supposed to listen to this?

Heavy footsteps behind me startled me out my reverie, and I turned to see Sam watching me.

"I wanna see him."

"That isn't a good idea, and we both know why."

I rolled my eyes heavenward and prayed for some patience I would never get.

"You told me you wouldn't throw that in my face, Sam. Not now."

His eyes said the words he didn't have the courage to voice...

 _Why did you let him touch you?  
Why did you let him hurt you?_

 _Why did you let him break you?_

His expression softened and he pressed a solid kiss to my forehead.

"I wasn't- look, we both know he isn't in his right mind. If he sees you, he's gonna say things he doesn't really mean. I don't want you to hurt anymore."

I swallowed the retort I had burning at the back of my throat, and pressed my forehead to his chin.

"Sammy, I gotta do this. Maybe I can get through to him. You tied him up tight, didn't ya?," I asked.

He sighed loudly enough to make me grin.

"Yes. Come on."

I took his hand in mine, squeezing it tight. I was grateful that he didn't let go as he led me to Dean.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"You're my rock. No matter what he says, I got this. Okay?"

His hazel eyes met mine and he simply nodded, opening the door to reveal a trussed up Dean, with his head hanging low as he sat in a straight-backed chair.

As I stepped further into the room, he grinned, his pearly whites greeting me with malice.

"Ah, ah, looky what we have here," He drawled. I crossed my arms over my chest, glancing at Sam.

"You look like shit," I muttered.

His grin fell and he pulled harshly against his restraints.  
"You weren't sayin' that when I was buried deep inside of ya," He spat. Sam stiffened beside me and I patted his arm.

"Well ain't that sweet. You fuckin' him too?," Dean snarled at me, his green eyes fading to black faster than the sunset. Slowly, I neared him, kicking the front of his chair with my boot.

"Does that bother you?," I whispered menacingly. Dean's growl echoed around the both of us as he fought hard to get at me from his seat in his chair.

"You filthy little _whore!_ I told you I would kill you!"

I laughed, a harsh bitter sound between us.

"Maybe my head was so full of Sam that I just didn't hear you," I sing-songed towards him. If looks could kill, I'd be burned to a pile of ash at his feet, because the look on his face was nothing but pure vitriol. Sam rounded me, needle in hand.

"Don't fuckin' stick that thing in me! You! Stop him!"

I shrugged.

"I'm nothin' but the house whore. Sorry, I got no say," I said.

"I shoulda killed you when I had the chance! Dean's never gonna forgive you, you backstabbing bitch!," He screamed at me.

It hurt, of course it did, but the pain bounced right off of me as I watched those black eyes fade to green.

"Dean Winchester, I love you. I forgive you for all the things you've said and done in the last six months," I told him. For a second, it looked like he was going soft on me; the expression on his face was almost _tender,_ and then he started to laugh. His whole body shook with tremors from his laughter, and I sucked in a breath and exhaled slowly.

"I don't give a fuck about you, little girl. Ya always were a _pathetic_ excuse for a hunter too, and guess what? Ya ain't that good in bed either," He said bitterly.

Sam's eyes met mine behind Dean and I winked at him.

"Last night, Sam fucked me so good I had trouble walkin' this mornin'," I told him vindictively. His lip lifted in a snarl before he spit at my feet.

I kneeled before him, watching as those demonic black eyes hovered over every inch of my skin.

"It felt _so_ good when he slid between my thighs. He erased every memory of you from my body," I whispered.

His eyes flickered between black and green, before they finally settled on their beautiful, electric green.

"You wouldn't do that."

I tilted my head to the side, feeling the flutters of pure joy rising up in my stomach. Could he be cured?

Could he come back to me?

Could Dean, _my Dean,_ finally come home?

"Cas told me that erasing you from my memory would be doin' me a disservice. Even though I literally _begged_ him to erase every second I'd ever spent with you. Still, he told me he couldn't do that to me," I told him honestly.

His lips twitched and as I moved to stand, he flinched, trying to move with me, almost as if it genuinely scared him to lose sight of me.

His eyes were trained on me like I was his prey, but the earnest expression on his face told me he wouldn't hurt me. It told me that we were making progress.

"Come on, maybe we should go-,"

"I'm gonna break outta here, and when I do, well then little girl you're gonna be _mine._ The things I'm gonna do to you when I get my hands on you are gonna make what I did in hell look like a fuckin' act of God!," Dean screamed at me, his growly voice making my insides curl up with fear.

And just like that, his eyes clouded with darkness, and the man I yearned for disappeared altogether.

"Come on. Let's leave him alone."

Castiel appeared beside me, and when his hand landed on my elbow, Dean roared. He tipped his head back and screamed, his long legs kicking against the chair that I was surprised could still hold him.

"You shouldn't come down here anymore," Castiel said gruffly. His blue eyes fell on me, and for a moment, I thought I saw pity there.

"Sure Cas, take her away! Keep her locked up tight, because the very _second_ I get free, I'm gonna fillet her like she deserves!," Dean said as he huffed a breath.

I glanced at him one more time before I let Sammy take me towards the library, and I was pretty sure that his hand on my lower back was the only thing keeping me grounded.

"Are you okay?," Sammy whispered.

"I'm okay. Really. Let me know when he's better, okay?"

Sam ran a hand through his hair and nodded.

"Okay. Stay up here until one of us gives ya the go ahead, alright? I don't wanna catch a repeat of yesterday," Sam joked. I cracked a smile, the first in a while, and Sam chuckled.

"Sorry ya had to see that."

Sammy just shook his head, smiling.

"I think we did it."

The pride in his voice, the overwhelming joy that seeped out of his mouth? It was amazing. Wonderful.

"I believe you. Go finish it."

With an excited wave in my direction, he was gone, and I was left shaking in the back corner of the library. I held on to the stacks, hoping that the musty smell of the books would bring me back down to earth. Hearing Dean say those things hurt me more than I could ever say, but I wouldn't ever throw that in his face.

I meant it when I said I forgave him, because I did. I loved him more than anything, and I forgave him with every fiber of my being.

I stood there for what felt like days, but it was more than likely only hours.

The sun fell before my eyes, but I didn't see it.

The screaming finally stopped, but I didn't hear it.

All of me was seemingly melting at the seams, dripping and fusing together in all the wrong ways.

I didn't know what way was up, and what way was down.

The carpet was wedged between my bare toes, but I didn't notice; I didn't notice Castiel beside me, a worried expression on his face. I didn't hear Sammy and him murmuring, I didn't hear their excited exchange as they realized that Dean was cured.

Nothing.

For me, there was nothing.

At some point my body had moved me into a chair propped against the shelves, and my knees were drawn up to my chest.

The first thing I _did_ notice, was the distinct chill in the air. My tank top and bohemian skirt didn't keep me warm by any means, and when I finally did blink away the haziness, it was quiet in the bunker.

It was silent, too quiet.

I slowly began to move, dropping my feet to the floor. My muscles were stiff from sitting in the same position for hours, and I groaned softly as I moved to stand. I saw that Sam had lit a few candles on the tables around me, and I smiled at his thoughtfulness.

I hadn't been lying when I told him he was my rock.

He kept my feet on the ground when my head got lost in the clouds; like tonight.

Tonight, he'd let me keep all my thoughts to myself, tonight he'd left me alone.

Tonight, he let me _heal._

"I was afraid you'd turned into a statue," I heard.

I flinched at the sound of his voice, so velvety and sweet. So warm, so gruff.

I turned to see Dean sitting in a chair across the room from me. He had his elbows planted on the arm rests and his hands fisted in front of him. I swallowed audibly and shrugged.

"I'm cured, apparently."

I couldn't help but smile.

"That's great, Dean."

He stood sharply, and his face fell; it crumpled like an old Coke can.

"Nothing about the last six months has been _great_ , sweetheart. Please don't pretend like this ain't tearin' you apart."

As he neared me, I held my hands up as if that could keep him away.

"Not yet. I ain't ready, yet, Dean."

He stopped moving altogether, and his jaw locked.

"I can't walk away from you without knowin' if ya meant what ya said," He finally said. I dropped my hands. My fingers curled in on themselves, yearning to touch him.

His green eyes stayed familiar, stayed warm and broken as he watched me.

 _No blackness._

"Which part?," I whispered. I knew that if I tried to speak now, my voice would catch on all the things I wanted to say that were crawling up the back of my throat like word vomit. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth for a second before he exhaled deeply.

"All of it."

I covered my face with my hands, trying to stave off the tears.

"Yes and no."

His brows pulled together over his sad eyes and I twisted my fingers together.

"I don't know how much you remember-,"

"Enough. I remember enough."

I nodded and looked at the bruises lining my wrists from when he held me captive against the refrigerator just yesterday.

"I never slept with Sam. One night when he was drunk we kissed, but that's as far as that went. I'm sure you remember that night," I said softly.

There it was again, the guilt that was ever-present with Dean Winchester. It flashed in his eyes, made a home in his heart.

"Yeah, I remember that."

"The next mornin', Castiel came to visit me. Apparently Sam told him what we'd-what you and I had done- he was worried. So I asked him to erase you. I asked him to take me out of my misery and make me forget you, but he wouldn't," I told him. His stance changed and he hung his head.

"I shoulda never touched ya-,"

"Let me finish," I said sternly.

Dean's green eyes shot to mine and with one single nod, I continued.

"I went out of my mind while you were gone. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep- that was true. When I told you that my broken heart would kill me, I meant it. And it did. Cas brought me back by the skin of my teeth. Do you remember all those months ago, when you told me ya couldn't stop thinkin' about the time I got attacked by a werewolf?," I asked him. He nodded his head again.

"This time it was a shapeshifter. He- he came to me as you, and I was so fucked in the head I couldn't tell the difference. I just wanted to see you at that point, so I left our motel with him. He strung me up like a fuckin' Christmas tree, and that's how Sammy found me," I explained.

His eyes were vibrant, wet, swelling with tears. I turned so I wouldn't have to look at them as I continued.

"Cas healed me. _Really_ healed me. I come back to life and I feel... _okay._ There's no hole in my chest that makes it hard to breathe. No nightmares, so shame, no guilt, no _heart-stopping loneliness_. I know he won't admit it, that he changed me, but he did. And then you showed up," I whimpered. I could hear his shallow breathing, I could hear how hard he was fighting back tears.

"I'm not tellin' ya this to hurt you, Dean. I'm tellin' ya this because after tonight I never wanna talk about it again. The second you waltzed in here two days ago, it undid whatever he did because now I can't _stop_ feeling. It's like a tidal wave of everything that I'd been able to escape this last couple of months, and it _hurts,"_ I cried. He stepped towards me, raised his hands as if to touch me, and dropped them at his sides at the last moment.

I turned to face him, moving closer to him until our toes were touching. His worn out boots were rough against my bare, purple-painted toes, and I looked up into his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I shoulda stayed away, I shouldn't have come here-,"

"Stop. I know you're sorry, Dean. I can see it in your eyes. I don't regret anything that happened between us, baby. And why don't you just ask me what it is you _really_ wanna know?," I whispered.

He dropped his gaze to our feet, and I felt the barest of touches against my thigh. Looking down, I saw his pinky just barely grazing the flowing material of my skirt.

"Do you...I mean, did you mean it when you...said that you love me? Do you still?," He asked me, his voice just above a whisper.

I hesitated, wondered briefly how he couldn't _know_ that, and then reminded myself this was Dean Winchester. He wouldn't know real love if it bit him on the ass and turned him into a vampire.

"Look at me."

His green eyes met mine, and I hooked my pinky with his.

"I never stopped loving you."

The smile that stretched across his face, well it was a beautiful sight.

 _Home._

 _He's home._

"Would it be alright if I touched ya?," He asked me.

His cheeks were wet, his lower lip was still trembling slightly. As he reached for me, his fingers shook.

"If you don't, I think I'll go mad," I answered desperately.

His palms cupped my cheeks immediately, bringing my mouth to his. He cried into my mouth as his tongue swept inside to meet mine, but I didn't care.

Dean Winchester didn't do _feelings_ , and I knew that after this moment was over, we would never revisit it again.

It needed to be aired out, like a healing wound, right now.

His arms were tight around me, giving me no room to move, and I loved it. I needed it. I absolutely wanted nothing more than for Dean to make love to me and wash away all the pain and sorrow the last six months had given us.

"Tell me ya don't hate me, sweetheart. Tell me that this is real, that ya won't leave me," Dean whispered adamantly into my ear. I sucked in a deep breath and nodded. This is real.

"Of course, this is real. I haven't left you yet."

His breath fanned my face as his hands worked up underneath my tank top to cup my breasts, weighing them in his calloused hands. He tore my tank top from me and tossed it to the floor.

"Fuck, you feel better than I remembered," Dean groaned. His hands were bringing me to new heights, and after waiting so long to have _Dean_ here, it felt amazing. I worked my fingers beneath his t-shirt and slipped it over his head. As it fell to the floor, his lips landed on mine once more and it was almost as if all the broken pieces inside of me fused themselves back together.

Dean's skilled hands shoved my skirt and my panties down my thighs, and he took a second to press his nose to the apex of my thighs and inhaled deeply.

"The scent of you, the taste...the memories were the only thing that kept me human," Dean said against my skin. I ran my fingers through his hair and tugged gently. His eyes met mine in the moonlight, and I smiled tremulously.

My skirt hit the floor, along with my lavender colored panties, and the sound Dean made when he lifted me into his arms and set me on the table behind me was nothing short of sexy.

"I've had so many fantasies about this," He whispered, using one palm to lay me back against the table top. I shuddered, laying my hand over his, as he eased between my thighs and pressed open mouthed kisses to my fevered skin.

"Me too," I admitted.

His green eyes met mine and a smiled curved onto his lips.

"Yeah?"

I spread my legs wider, nodding my head.

"Like you wouldn't believe."  
He hesitated for a moment, before I sat up and pressed my mouth to his.

"Do you want me to show you?"

His gaze dropped to the floor, his head shaking.

"I don't- no, I don't deserve it-,"

I pressed a finger to his lips and then replaced it with my mouth. He calmed, relaxed, and I smiled.

"Switch places with me," I whispered. He did, and when his ass was settled against the table, I worked on his belt. I pulled it through the loops, stopping only to make eye contact with Dean as I did so.

His green eyes were hazy, his pupils blown so wide that for a moment I feared the worst-that he hadn't been cured and this was all some sick and twisted dream.

"What'sa matter sweetheart? We can stop-,"

I shook my head fervently and kissed the hand he held out to me.

"No. I was just silently appreciating the fact that you came home to me."

His expression changed from worried to tender and he leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead.

And then his belt was on the floor and he was sighing with relief as I pulled his pants down to unsheathe the cock I'd missed so much.

It was perfect, symmetrical and so familiar. My mouth began to water as I tentatively touched it, pausing when I heard his sexy sharp intake of breath.

"Fuck, I missed this," I breathed, leaning forward to slid my tongue along his shaft. He jerked, his hands falling into my hair and tugging on the thick strands as I leaned forward to swallow him. With one hand braced on his thigh and the other cupping his balls, I opened my mouth wider only to proceed by hollowing my cheeks and turning my gaze to Dean's face.

His eyes were at half mast and his head was tipped back, his hair in disarray.

 _He's perfect._

 _He's mine._

 _Mine, Mine, Mine-_

"Wait! I don't wanna come like this baby, and it's been a while," Dean admitted with a sheepish grin before he had me bent backwards over the table, my legs spread wide. Two fingers filled me up instantly, drawing a gasp from me.

"Ya miss me?"

I nodded, my eyes closing, as Dean finger-fucked me into oblivion.

"You're so wet," He whispered, sucking a pert nipple into his mouth. His hot tongue slid across my skin, and the tension in my belly coiled tighter and tighter until I thought my entire being would explode.

But I needed more, I needed _Dean_ inside of me, exactly where he belonged.

I didn't have time to ask for more before he lifted my legs at the back of my knees and slid home, leaning forward to wrap an arm around my waist and bringing my mouth up to meet his.

The new angle made me catch my breath, moan, and bury a hand in the hair at the nape of his neck.

"You feel so good," I whispered. Nibbling on the shell of his ear, he sucked in a breath and tightened his hold on me.

"I can't let go," He whispered desperately, his hips thrusting against mine as he made his way outside of me, and then back in.

Dean's hands were everywhere, all at once, and for the first time in _months_ it finally felt like I was whole.

We were one.

"I love you," I whispered against his mouth.

His green eyes met mine, and he smiled at me, his teeth catching on my bottom lip.

I didn't expect a response, this was _Dean_ after all, and I knew that I would probably never hear the words.

But that tension was building again, and from the jerky response of Dean's hips said he was ready to come too.

"Are you gonna come for me baby?"

His sexy words only made my pussy clench tighter as my orgasm blazed through me, burning my skin to a fever pitch. Spots came to life behind my eyes as my muscles clenched and my orgasm flooded through me like the plague.

Dean's breathing hitched as he came at the same time, his mouth on mine, his cries blending in with mine.

It was _the_ moment, the moment I realized that no matter what life threw our way, Dean and I were it.

"It this okay?"

The insecurity in Dean's voice made me pause.

"Was it not...was that not good?," I asked.

He pulled away, trailing a hand down between my breasts and continuing towards the area where our bodies were still connected.

"The best, baby. There ain't nobody else out there that makes me feel the way you do, I just...don't want the dust to settle and realize that this ain't what ya want," Dean said softly. He gently eased himself away from me, reaching down to pull his pants back up and button them.

Feeling rejected, I pulled on my clothes as fast as possible, fisting my forgotten panties.

"We may not have a very _conventional_ love story Dean, but it's ours. It happened, and I wouldn't change a thing. I'd rather know that I can feel secure in what we are then wake up every day wondering."  
His shoulders relaxed as he slid his t-shirt on, and he nodded.

"So I can keep you?"

He'd asked the question so softly I almost didn't hear him, but when I realized what he was asking me, I stepped towards him and pressed a kiss to his chest.

"I'm yours."

The look in his green eyes was something I would always cherish; the gratitude, the love, the absolute dedication.

"We better get to bed, sweetheart. We got a lot of stuff to sort out in the mornin'."  
Yeah, I guess we did.


End file.
